Gift Giving
by GreenMouse95
Summary: This is something my lovely friend Joyce wrote for me and she said that I could post it here which I have chosen to do because it is absolutely beautiful :3 The female character in this is Calithilien. She is my personal interpretation of what Thranduil's wife could have been like and she is a huge part of me because I quit often use her to let out my maternal side. ONE-SHOT


He loved giving her gifts. He would often bring her back a thing or two during his trips to and from the markets, or return with a few Noldorin trinkets whenever he visited Lothlorien. He had never minded the joke he knew he was becoming, whispers spreading like wildfire among his people as their giggles echoed around him. Nor did he take into personal offense of his father's seemingly ceaseless nagging. He just enjoyed showering her with gifts, all because he simply loved to see her smile.

Even when they were finally married, the gift giving never stopped. He did not stop his regular outings to other realms, and he would often return with something new, ready to share it with her. She would give it a thought, only once, it was either that he was hopelessly and devastatingly in love, or it was something that had simply taken root and grown to become a habit.

When Doriath was razed to the ground by Dwarves, they had fled to the Greenwood, established a city there where the Silvan Elves then looked upon him as their leader, and he soon became their King. Life was hard, and with war happening in the north it only worsened the economy. But at least it was not completely unbearable.

He returned home one day, smiling, it was a smile that had not been present since their home was destroyed. In his hands he held a box, it was quite large, and yet not too small. It was decent, quite pretty really, and he had guessed that it was made to hold something of a much higher value.

There was only one way to find out.

"Thranduil… A'maelamin… This is too much…" The dark haired beauty said softly, looking at the elegant piece of silk sitting comfortably in the box on her lap. The object she spoke of was sewn with the finest threads found only within fabric meant to be worn by those of royalty, absolutely weightless as she held it in her small and delicate hands. Despite the woman's supposed fragility, like many Elves, she was one you wouldn't want to meet on the battlefield.

"Mela en' coiamin. For a moment you looked happy, before you reminded yourself of that" He joined her on the bed, sitting behind her and massaging her shoulders.

"This is a time of war. Even food is scarce" She said in the same soft tone, "We need to be careful on what is spent, our people need all the resources we can spare them"

Long before all of this, she did smile, countless times, when they were back in Doriath; and she had smiled when he brought her things far more valuable than silk. And even when Doriath was destroyed, he did not stop giving. For the first few months, she did smile, only for common courtesy and to keep him entertained, but she had failed to realize how exhausting it would be to keep a happy expression when it wasn't genuine.

She would keep a fake smile and pretended she appreciated the gifts he brought home, and he would pretend that he didn't know. But today, she must have forgotten to smile without realizing, and he did not bother to pretend.

"You are unhappy" He said gently as his crystal blue eyes locked themselves on her smokey grey ones when she turned around to look at him.

She nodded sadly, "The times have grown depressing - with the war, all the deaths, Morgoth, our kindred, Doriath and-"

"-Thingol" He finished it for her.

"Yes…" She said with a slow and sad nod.

"The Dwarves murdered him, my love. And they will pay one day - I will make them pay, for the sake of your Uncle Thingol, for you, for our son" He vowed to her.

"How would you know it would be a boy?" She asked with a small smile and a raised eyebrow. With that moment he thought her smile was as if the moon itself had fallen from the heavens.

"I just do" He said as he returned her smile and gently laid a hand upon the large bump of her stomach, "And I also know that he will grow be like me"

"How do you know this?"

"He will bear my hair color, and my eyes, but he will bare your valiance and your stubbornness"

"One day I will tell him that his father was the smartest, the bravest, and the most beautiful Elf of Arda, so beautiful that his mother almost mistook him for an Elleth-" A light chuckle filled the room as she felt a sharp jab originating from within her stomach. Their son had chosen that moment to kick her.

"He heard you" Thranduil said as his smile brightened.


End file.
